


One Day In The Life Of Buffy Summers

by stormwreath



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Drama, Genderswap, Humor, Humour, Multi, Season/Series 07, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-11-22
Updated: 2008-12-03
Packaged: 2017-10-03 01:40:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 13,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stormwreath/pseuds/stormwreath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Buffy's having a really strange day... Set in early S7.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In which Buffy wakes up

As Buffy Summers awoke one morning from uneasy dreams, she found herself transformed in her bed into a man.

Her first reaction, of course, was to assume she was still dreaming. An extremely weird dream, at that. What on _earth _had she been eating (or, possibly, drinking) last night? Regardless, this dream was no good at all. She closed her eyes and willed herself back to proper sleep.

The buzzing of her alarm clock woke her again. She shot out her hand to turn it off, and recoiled in pain as her knuckles bashed into it and sent it crashing to the ground. Ow. What on earth? Her arm seemed somehow longer than normal. She held it up to look at it, and blinked at the huge hand in front of her eyes. That wasn't her hand. It was a man's hand.

The fingers still bent when she clenched them into a fist. It was a man's hand attached to her body. Oh God. The odd fingers that looked nothing like hers plucked at the top of the bedsheet. She knew she ought to lift it up and look down at her body, but she really didn't want to. Oh Godohgod. Come on, Buffy. You're the Slayer, fearless in the face of danger, aren't you? So she gingerly pulled up the sheet and peeked down the length of her body. No boobs restricted her view. Pulling open the neck of her baggy PJs revealed two tiny, shrunken nipples almost lost in curls of golden fuzz. She stifled a shriek, let go of her nightwear as if it burned her and pulled the blanket right up over her eyes, which she closed tightly.

It was definitely a nightmare. Things would all go back to normal if she ignored them for long enough.

Unfortunately, a thunderous banging on the door interrupted her attempt to deny the new reality of her world.

"Come on Buffy! Aren't you even up yet? You promised to take me out shopping today!"

Oh God. When did her cute little baby sister get so loud and insistent? It was true, she had offered to spread some of the wealth from her shiny new counselling job, but not now! She couldn't go out like _this_...

"Leave me alone!" She was shocked at how deep her voice sounded. Dawn was obviously just as surprised, because a distinct note of concern sounded in her next words.

"Buffy, are you okay? You sound really rough..."

And before Buffy knew what was happening her bedroom door was opening. She frantically burrowed under the covers, curling into a ball to avoid revealing any tell-tale signs of her new shape, and peeked one cautious eye out of her blanket nest. At least her sister's words had given her a glimmer of an excuse. She deliberately spoke barely above a whisper.

"Sorry, Dawnie. I think I've got the 'flu or something.Can we take a raincheck? Maybe Willow could take you."

Dawn rolled her eyes. "She's not up yet either. I don't know what you _supposed _adults were doing last night, but I'm glad **I **don't drink."

"I am _not _hung over! I just... look, I just want to spend the morning in bed. Will you be okay?"

"Sure. I'll go over to Janice's. Can I get you anything?"

"Thank you, no. I just want to rest."

Buffy breathed a sigh of relief as her sister bustled out again, but waited until she heard the slam of the front door before she could fully relax once more.

Then she lifted the blankets to look at her body and tensed up all over again. It hadn't gone away. It was real. She was still a man.

Her brain was working properly now though, and she began to think through the possible causes for her affliction. This was obviously a spell of some kind... or a curse. Had someone made a wish in the hearing of a vengeance demon? But why would that affect her? She hadn't upset any scorned women lately that she knew of. Well, there was Spike of course, but he wasn't actually a woman and she couldn't imagine any vengeance demons granting his wishes anyway. So that left magic. Had some witch's spell gone wrong...?

Twenty seconds later Buffy was marching down the corridor and throwing open the door of Willow's room, demanding to know what she'd been doing. Her friend's tousled head lifted from the pillow, she opened bleary eyes and focussed them in Buffy's direction...

...Then shrieked and jerked upright in the bed, pulling the bedclothes defensively around her.

"W-who are you? Get away from me!"

"Don't be stupid. It's me!"

"G-get out of my room or I'll call Buffy! She's the Slayer, she'll..."

"Willow, I _am_ Buffy!"

"What? Uh, no you're not. Buffy's a girl."

"Yeah. I used to think so too. Has one of your spells backfired?"

"What? No! I - I haven't... I'm careful now, you know that. Is that really you? Buffy?"

"Yeah, it's really me. And I'm not liking it."

"You're a guy! Wow. You're actually a guy. How did this happen?"

"That's what I'm trying to find out."

As they were speaking Willow threw back the covers and was now advancing towards Buffy, a look of frank curiosity and even fascination shining in her eyes. She walked a complete circle around the Slayer, who felt distinctly uncomfortable under the scrutiny.

"Seen enough now?"

"Wha-? Oh. Sorry. It's just - you're a guy!" She grinned suddenly. "You're the first man to see me in my night-things in about three years."

Buffy didn't find that at all funny. She was _not _a man! She looked challengingly at Willow, taking in her friend's really rather cute nightie, the long sweep of her legs below it, the plunging neckline, the light dusting of freckles on her chest that drew her eyes enticingly downwards towards swelling curves; and as Willow leant forward slightly to peer more closely at her friend's mysterious tranformation, Buffy's eyes became fixed on the slight jiggle of her boobs, the way her nightie fell open for one tantalising moment at the neck to reveal them; and a warm flush spread up through her, and then...

"Oh my God, it's moving!" She shrieked, springing back bodily in her alarm."It's come alive!"

"What?! What has? What's happening?"

"It's.. it's my... it's that thing! It's moving of its own accord!"

Buffy pointed frantically at her crotch. Willow followed her gesture, then burst out in an absolutely helpless fit of giggles. She tried fruitlessly several times to speak, before finally wiping the tears from her eyes and gasping out in a choked voice, "You've got a stiffie!"

Buffy's face burned with mortification. "No, I - I can't have. How can you even know that?"

"It's right there in front of me, Buff. You can't exactly hide it." 

But she was wrong, because Buffy immediately grabbed a pillow and held it defensively in front of her. She wailed in desperation. "I hate this! You've got to help me, Will!"

"Of course I will. You know that. But if you don't know who did this to you, it might take some time. We'll have to go into research mode." As she spoke, another thought suddenly crossed her mind, and her brows furrowed. "Hold on. Did looking at _me _just turn you on?"

"What? No, of course it didn't!"

"Um, there's a rather large and obvious bit of evidence to the contrary here. It's sticking right out in our faces." She giggled again.

"But I didn't... That's not fair! It's cheating!"

"Yeah, being a guy must suck sometimes. But there's no denying that _something _just made you horny." She looked at Buffy impishly. "So was it me?"

"It can't be! You're my best friend. As in, "platonic" friend. I don't feel that way about you! I mean, you're a definite hottie and I'm sure if I were gay I'd be all over you, but I'm just not!"

"Which I've always thought was a great shame. But, uh, if you're not, how do you explain - ooh! Ooh! I've got it! Yes! Oh Buffy, this is wonderful! Finally, some proof!"

Buffy stared in confused astonishment at her friend's enthusiastic outburst. "Uh, splainy?"

"Nature versus nurture, of course! See, you've spent your entire life as a straight woman so if the focus of your sexuality is down to your upbringing and social conditioning, you'd still be attracted to men now, right? Because nothing in your past has changed. But if it's something physical from your genes that determines your sexuality, well then, your brain - which used to be female and heterosexual, therefore man-attracted - has obviously just become male, but still heterosexual and as such female-attracted. Like reversing the polarity."

When Buffy still looked puzzled, she clarified, "You're still straight, but now you like girls instead of guys." Then Willow pouted, and added, "Which is just my luck, seeing as how your body is now male. Mutter mutter grumble."

"Uh, sorry. I think. But now you've had your little epiphany, can we try and change me back?"

"Sure. But can we, y'know, get dressed and stuff first? I should probably slip into something a little less revealing, for your sake."

"Perhaps you should. Anyway, I need to go to the bathroom. I came straight here when I got out of bed, I kind of had other things on my mind to distract me."

She turned and made for the door, feeling a lot calmer than before. They were back into the familar Scooby Gang rhythm, and she was confident Willow and the guys would soon solve her little problem.

Then she froze in a fresh burst of horror as Willow's laughing voice called out behind her, "Don't forget to put the seat down again after you've finished!"


	2. In which Buffy goes to the bathroom

Buffy stumbled her way along to the bathroom in a kind of daze, cold chills running up her body. She didn't often bother locking the door, but now she really felt she had to. So far, she'd done her best to avoid thinking about the sheer reality of her situation. The cold, hard (_ahem_) physicality of it. It was just some waking nightmare - or alternatively, a source of mirth for her supposed "friend" whom she'd definitely have to get back at one of these days. But it would soon be over, and until then she'd ignore it as best she could.

But there were certain activities where ignoring the new shape of her body was not actually possible.

She stood staring at the toilet as if it were some alien object, as if she'd never seen one before in her life. Did she really have to do this? Maybe it was all just an illusion and her body would turn back to normal. Any moment now.

Come on, come on. Please change back.

She even went to start her bath running, hoping to give herself more time. But the sound of the flowing water mingled with the increasingly urgent signals from her bladder, and she realised that denial wasn't working. So at last she walked back over, gingerly reached out her hand and lifted the toilet seat a little way... hesitated, then firmly swung it to the upright position. Come on. Men did this all the time, didn't they? So then she looked down at her front, and for the first time grasped for real something she'd known intellectually all her life: men's pants had a flyhole at the front. Her pyjamas didn't. So after a moment's indecision she pushed them right down and stepped out of them.

Which, of course, was when she actually saw _it _for the first time. Her - she didn't really want to say the word, even in the privacy of her own mind. Her _thing_. At least it wasn't erect any longer; it just kind of dangled there, all limp and ugly. How was she supposed to pee without getting it all over the floor? (_Although men do that all the time too_, part of her mind commented sardonically). Was she going to have to - gulp - _hold _that thing? Point it? She couldn't. She just couldn't.

In a state of near-panic Buffy pulled the seat back down, turned around and sat on it.

A few minutes later, as she sank back at last into the piping hot bathwater, she finally felt calm enough to relax again after her trauma. Maybe the fact that the rich foamy suds completely hid her new body from view helped her with that. She told herself firmly to sort herself out. This was just a stupid magical curse, and at least she wasn't invisible or singing or hearing voices in her head this time. She was just a man, her and three billion other people on the planet. She could cope. She just needed to get a grip.

_That was a really unfortunate phrase to use,_ she thought, as her new appendage seemed to stir to life again as the warm water lapped around it. She tried to push it back down again, then blinked at how pleasant the contact felt. Experimentally, she touched it again. Mmm. Kinda nice.

No. Kinda freaky! She let go hurriedly and moved her hands far away. She shouldn't!

Why shouldn't she? After all, it was Saturday morning, with Dawnie out of the way and Willow off doing her own thing (and Spike locked up in the basement, but don't think about him), and a little pleasant me-time was a perfectly normal and natural thing for her to indulge in. Wasn't it? She had nothing to be ashamed of. And while she hopefully wouldn't be this shape for long, she'd be damned if she'd let her own (temporary) body freak her out like this.

And so before her courage could fail her again, she reached out and took firm hold of her... her.. her.. (say it!) her dick. It seemed to get harder than ever, and she started stroking her fingers up and down gently. She'd done this before enough times, of course, but always from the opposite perspective - and, well, she'd never had such direct and immediate feedback on what it felt like. This was actually rather good. Her breathing quickened as her hand slid up and down steadily, the water splashing and dancing around her in a rhythmic motion, sounding loud in her ears. She could feel the pleasure mounting up inside her, her hand flying rapidly up and down her shaft, faster and faster, her heart pounding in her chest, until before she ever expected it her body arced and twisted as her face pulled into a silent scream and she felt a series of powerful clench-and-release sensations deep down, like normal orgasmic contractions but somehow more focussed and sharply defined. And then she collapsed back limp into the water, eyes closed and barely able to move a single muscle.

She wasn't sure how long she lay there; time seemed to slow to a crawl. She'd never felt this lethargic, but it was kind of like being cocooned in a warm haze. It was nice. Vaguely, she began pondering how male orgasms compared to the female type she was used to. It wasn't better, as such, but it was more... intense? Abrupt? Like jumping off a balcony instead of sliding down the bannisters. She grinned, thinking she was possibly the only person in the world with the first-hand knowledge to make that comparison.

And then she suddenly realised that if she was now a man, then when she felt those peculiar contractions as she came... she must have been ejaculating. Into the bath. So the water she was now lying in... uurrggh! Lethargy forgotten, she sprang out of the bath in a shower of spray and stood dripping on the rug, resisting the urge to scrub at her body with her hands. Eww eww eww.

Oh God. What if she became pregnant? Then she caught herself, and stifled a slightly mad giggle. Of course she couldn't become pregnant, she was a man now! Curiosity overcoming revulsion, she peered over into the bath and swept the suds away with her hand, looking to see if she could spot any trace of her recent activity in the water. She couldn't. But she'd better rinse out the bath extra-carefully now after she emptied it.

As the water drained away down the plughole, Buffy studied her new body with renewed interest. Her little orgasmic adventure had at least done some good; she was no longer scared to look at herself. The person who stared back at her in the mirror seemed almost a stranger, but not quite. He was quite a lot taller than her, and his face was more solid-looking; shorter-necked and with a definite adam's apple that bobbed as she swallowed. But the eyes were still identical, and the nose, and as she became more accustomed to the sight she decided that he looked much like her brother might have appeared, if she'd had one. His body was in excellent condition; trim with well-defined muscles - if a little more thin and bony than she really liked her men. Buffy looked with approval and then wondered why she didn't feel any twinge of lust.

She moved her hands up over her torso, watching as the man in the mirror did the same thing. The flatness of her chest didn't really bother her that much; but she still thought those tiny nipples were creepy. Her arms and legs were smooth, and that actually disturbed her even more. Shouldn't they be hairy if she was a man now? Her face actually felt more stubbly than her legs, and she realised with a jolt that she'd need to shave at some point. Cross that bridge when you come to it, Buffy. The man in the mirror also had long blond hair, which made him look kind of bohemian and artistic (or possibly a hippy and/or gay). As she looked at it, Buffy suddenly realised something crucial - and the man in the mirror made his mouth into an 'o' of surprise to match her own. That man's hair was in the exact same style as her own hair had been last night. Clearly her sex had changed, but not any alterations she'd made herself to her body. Which also explained why her legs were still shaven; and, when she turned her head and pushed back her hair to check, she still had pierced ears. Right. That made more sense now.

Finally, her inspection complete, she turned her gaze back to the most, um, obvious sign of her change. Her penis still seemed like this enormous and obtrusive thing tacked onto the front of her body, but now with a more relaxed and judicious eye she realised that actually, it wasn't the biggest she'd ever seen. Comparatively speaking.

_Oh great. Thanks a lot, universe. First you hand me the small boobs, and now the little dick?_

Well, okay, not _that _little. In fact, it actually seemed to be growing again. Buffy watched in fascination this time as her newly acquired male genitalia firmed up into an erection once again. She even helped it along a little with some judicious hand contact. But her penis looked peculiar somehow, and she frowned as she tried to work out why. Then it clicked; she wasn't circumcised. Well of course, since she obviously hadn't been as a woman either and this must be something else that carried over. She wondered what difference it would make; she really didn't have much experience with guys to base her conclusions on. (For the record: Parker yes, Riley yes, Spike no, but she'd not really been in the mood for tender and patient exploration of her partner's body that year. Maybe she should talk to him about it? Ooorrr maybe she should dance naked in a feather boa down Main Street, because that would be slightly less embarrassing. And speaking of embarrassment - Angel: she couldn't actually remember. That night had been too much of a blur in her mind, and afterwards...) Her thumb teased her foreskin, sliding it back and forward experimentally.

Was it self-indulgent to jerk off twice in once morning? Buffy quickly decided the answer was 'no'; and besides, now she was really curious to know what her, um, her very own sperm would look like.

And she also discovered that as a man, she was tall enough that the bathroom sink came to her thighs instead of her waist.


	3. In which Buffy has breakfast

When she finally emerged from the bathroom, she peered cautiously around the door, half-scared that Willow would be standing there with a big grin chanting "I know what you're do-ing!" But luckily, there was no sign of her. Buffy scampered quickly into her bedroom, slammed the door and dropped the towel she'd wrapped around herself.

She felt her chin; definitely stubbly, but she thought she could get away with it a while longer. She'd better get dressed and see how the research was progressing.

Her underwear drawer was open and she was already putting her arms through the straps of her bra before she realised the pointlessness of that garment. She dropped it back and gazed dubiously at her knickers. She liked them small and sexy, filmy little wisps of material, and she realised with a sinking heart that not one of her pairs would fit her now. Could she borrow some? Buy some? Well, for the moment she'd have to go commando...  which, she thought, was a stupid expression. She'd shared a bed with Riley for a year and he'd never dream of not putting his underwear on every morning. She'd even asked him once if there was some special rule about not wearing underpants in the Marines, and he'd assured her there wasn't. Anyway, if she didn't wear any, it meant running the risk of the same situation that had happened in Willow's room. Oh God, this was more complicated than she'd thought.

And worse was to come. She opened her closet, pulled on a pair of jeans... and peeled them straight back off as she could barely get her legs through them. Skirts were out of the question. In the end she pulled on a raggedy old pair of sweatpants she used to train in. The legs seemed to stop halfway up her calves, but at least they covered her. A top was less of a problem; she had several comfy men's shirts. They were less comfy now she actually was a man; just normal fit. Still, at least she was decent.

But none of her shoes fitted anymore. Buffy almost screamed in frustration as this new obstacle presented itself. Barefoot, she stomped downstairs and into the kitchen. Willow was already there, a steaming mug of coffee next to her elbow as she studied the screen of her laptop. She smiled cautiously at Buffy, hesistant of her friend's mood.

"Everything all right?"

"What? Oh, no, it's nothing, don't worry. I'm just fed up with all this, and I want it over with."

"W-we will, soon. I've already looked up several gender-changing spells, and we just have to work out which is the right one and then - presto!"

"I'm a girl again?"

"Back to Buffy with beautiful boobies." Willow giggled, then blushed. "Uh, I didn't mean it like that, I just went with the alliteration..."

"Uh-huh." Buffy looked at her repressively, but felt a grin lift the corner of her mouth. "Get them back for me and you can perv over them all you like as far as I'm concerned. " Then, as a hasty afterthought, "Tastefully and discreetly and from a safe distance, of course."

"Don't I always? Uh, don't answer that. Aaaand changing the subject rapidly, there's fresh coffee in the pot. I didn't know if you wanted anything to eat?"

"Mmm. I'll fix myself some cereal." She suited actions to words, finished the bowl quickly, and was then curious to discover she still felt hungry. So she filled a second bowl and ate that up just as fast.

"Healthy man-sized appetite, I see."

"Oh, please don't. I'm still getting used to this body."

"I _thought _you were in the bathroom a long time."

Buffy could feel her face glowing bright red, and stammered helplessly for a reply; but Willow just grinned at her and quirked an eyebrow. "Hey, if it were me, don't you think I'd have been doing exactly the same? I'm actually dying to ask you all about what it's like, but I thought we'd better save that until after I've turned you back."

"Thank you. I appreciate that. How's it getting on, anyway? Anything I can do to help?"

"Not yet. Once I've finished collecting the information on the possible enchantments I'll have to run a few mystical tests on you, see which would be the right counter-spell. But it'll be a few hours yet."

"Oh. What am I supposed to do now, then?"

"Dunno. What do you normally do on a Saturday? Watch cartoons. Fight evil. Go to the mall."

"Like this? People would see me!"

"So? They'll just think you're a guy. A cute guy with long hair and, uh, really bad dress sense. Why not go buy some proper man clothes?"

"I _can't!_ I haven't even got any shoes that fit me!"

"Oh yeah, that's a problem. Oh! Except, why don't you just take some of Spike's? You're pretty much his size now, maybe even a bit taller than him."

Buffy's instinctive rejection of that idea died in her throat as the words "_taller than him_" sank in. She grinned broadly, and practically skipped out of the kitchen towards the door to the basement.


	4. In which Buffy borrows some clothes

"Spike! Where are you? I need to borrow some of your clothes... and also look down on you, in the literal sense! Spike?"

He wasn't in his bed. She looked around, and sternly suppressed her start of surprise as he loomed suddenly out of one corner of the dark basement.

"Who the hell are you, then?"

"Who do you think I am? What happened to that creepy vampire smelling thing of yours? I'm Buffy."

"Yeah right. Nice disguise, mate, but you forgot one obvious little detail. And you made one _big _mistake coming here..."

And without another word of warning he was in full vampface and lunging straight for her throat with a feral snarl! Startled, Buffy reacted with pure Slayer instinct, dodging to one side and whipping out her arm to slam him into the nearest wall. He rebounded with a yell of pain and anger, using the momentum and leverage of the wall to land a high kick on her torso and send her in turn bouncing across the room. She spun around and yelled at him in baffled rage.

"Spike!" _***Punch***_ "What the hell." **_*Kick*_** "Do you think." _***Elbow slam***_ You are doing?!" _***Uppercut to the jaw***_ As he staggered back Buffy leaped on him and pinned him to the ground, staring angrily into demonic yellow eyes. "Spike!!"

As she watched, his face suddenly melted back into human form. "Bloody hell, Slayer, is that really you?"

"Who did you _think _I was?"

"Shapechanging demon. Here to take the Slayer's form, except you forgot one little detail."

Buffy looked at him incredulously. "My gender? A little detail?"

"Well yeah. Okay, it doesn't sound quite so likely now I think about it. Can I get up now?"

"What_ever_. You know, Willow realised it was me almost straight away. How come you only twigged after I beat you into a pulp?"

"Well, it's something you do a lot. I recognise your style. Uh, by the way, is there any particular reason why you're a bloke all of a sudden?"

"I really have no idea. Will's working on it now. I came to borrow some of your clothes, since my own don't fit me."

"Yeah, I can see that. No offence, love, but I've seen scarecrows dressed better than that."

"Are you _sure _you recognise me now? 'Cause I can beat you up some more if it would help. It'd help me."

"Thanks, but no thanks. You're less fun to fight now, Slayer. Not as cute."

"What, 'cause I'm a guy now? I thought that didn't matter to you undead types."

"Depends on the vampire, pet. Some of us are bigger poofs than others, mentioning no names, but I prefer my Slayers female."

"Me too." Buffy suddenly dropped her taunting pose, slumped down onto the end of the bed. "I hate this. I just hope Willow finds the solution soon and turns me back."

"If anyone can, Red's the girl." Spike sat beside her, his own expression now showing real concern - although Buffy noticed he still sat further away from her than he normally would. She almost scooted over herself, then stopped. They were two guys together, and maybe she shouldn't... She turned to look at Spike more closely, and he endured her stare with patience. He looked the same as ever - the scar, those cheekbones, his eyes... and she searched inside herself for the familiar tingle she always felt when she looked at him, even when she'd hated herself for feeling it.

It wasn't there. All she saw was the sympathetic face of a friend (and when the hell did Spike move into _that _category?). So maybe Willow's theory was true after all... and then Spike smiled wrily at her continued gaze, raising one sardonic eyebrow, and Buffy suddenly felt a little glow of warmth in her belly and a faint stirring from slightly lower down, and she blushed and turned away in confusion. How could Spike still turn her on even when she was a straight man? Did that make her.... what? Bi-curious? And when she was a woman again, would she still be... no. Of course not; how ridiculous! She sternly turned her mind to more practical things.

"I - uh - I really do need some clothes. Shoes, if you've got a spare pair. And, um, maybe some underpants?"

Spike grinned. "So, I'll finally get you into my pants again?" He hastily got up before Buffy could decide to hit him, and went over to his laundry basket. Rummaging through it, he fished out two pairs of undergarments and tossed them in her direction. She caught them and held them gingerly.

"Are these clean?"

"Obviously." He sounded offended, then pointed in two directions. "That basket's clean laundry, that one's dirty. And yes, I could fold my stuff tidily away in a drawer somewhere except that a) big bad creature of the night here, and b) you haven't given me any drawers."

"We let you use our washing machine, though." Buffy held up the items of clothing in her hands and pursed her lips.  "Briefs? Are boxers too modern for you, then?"

"Nah. It's a support thing. " He grinned wickedly. "You know how a bird with tiny tits can just wear a t-shirt, but the more well-endowed types need a bra? It's the same with me; I can't wear boxers."

"Oh. Yeah. Right." Buffy rolled her eyes and stuffed the briefs into her trouser waistband; she wasn't about to put them on with Spike watching. "Shoes? And socks?"

"Got a pair of old trainers here; you can try them on for size."

She did, and they pinched a little but didn't fit too badly. She smiled her thanks at the vampire, then got up to walk across the basement. A thought struck her, and she turned back to face him.

"Uh, Spike? I've never actually asked this before and it's something I ought to know. Do you shave? Vampires, I mean?"

"Not as a rule, no. Our hair tends to revert to however it was when we died, so unless you had a beard when you were turned, you never need to shave. Be difficult without a reflection, anyway."

"Oh. So what about, uh, the hair on your head? Because I do _not _believe people had hair like yours in Victorian times."

Spike grinned, ran his fingers through his hair. "The bleach keeps it short, stops it growing back so fast. Little trick I learned. Why do you think Angel likes his hairgel so much? Same reason. Stops him having to go around with that big girly bouncy big hairdo Angelus used to be so proud of."

Buffy stifled a giggle; she knew she shouldn't encourage Spike. But something puzzled her; she frowned and asked, "But I had a dream once - a Slayer dream, one of the true ones. It was about Angel, in the past, and he had a moustache. How was that possible?"

"Really? Angel with a 'tache? I'd love to have seen that. Was it a big bushy one? Or one of those poncy waxed jobs with curled-up ends - he'd have loved those?"

"No, just a normal one. I hated it, it looked like a big hairy caterpillar crawling on his lip."

"Maybe it actually was." Buffy laughed out loud at that. "Or perhaps he was in disguise? Or, I dunno, some sort of spell?"

"Speaking of, I ought to get back, see how Willow's doing. Pity; if you did shave I was hoping I could borrow your stuff. Or you could show me how to do it, at least?"

"Sorry, pet. Last time I needed to shave, I went to a barber shop in Marylebone and the barber did it for me with a straight razor for three ha'pennies."

"I... think I understood that. Oh well. Maybe I'll grow a beard."

"Can't you use the razor or whatever you use on your legs? It works just the same way, you know."

"Oh. I didn't think of that."

"Don't forget to pull the skin of your face taut!" he shouted after her as she ran up the stairs.


	5. In which Buffy goes shopping

Buffy was feeling more happy in herself now. She was properly dressed. She'd shaved; the idea of touching her face with the same razor she used on her legs and, um, other bits didn't really appeal, so she raided Dawn's supply for a new one. Her sister wouldn't mind. (And her female houseguest had apparently given up shaving her legs after almost ending the world then joining a coven last year. Buffy hadn't liked to press the matter with her to find out exactly why, but it meant she couldn't borrow her supplies.) After checking in with the said houseguest on her progress, she'd even dared to go out.

With her hair up in a ponytail and a cap pulled down over it to shield her face, she made her way to the local mall for some new jeans. Hardly anyone noticed her; if anything, people paid her even less attention than they used to when she was a woman. She wasn't sure whether to be pleased or insulted at that.

Being taller was great, though. She could actually reach the higher shelves without stretching! And as she made her way through the crowd of Saturday-morning shoppers clustering around the main aisle, she realised that she could see right to the other side of the crowd. Seriously! She could actually see over many of the people's heads! This could be so useful and convenient. And so as she was staring about her, a grin on her face, she found herself staring straight across into a familiar pair of eyes.

Anya. It was Anya doing her own shopping, and Buffy fought the sudden urge to crouch down and hide. Not that she didn't _like _Anya, honestly; it was just... how could she begin to explain what had happened? This was so embarrassing; going out in public like this was a huge mistake... 

Except that Anya wasn't rushing over to make one of her clangingly obvious comments about the situation - in fact, she just gazed blankly at Buffy for a moment then her eyes passed over her onto someone else in the crowd. She hadn't recognised her in her new man-like form! Buffy felt a wave of relief, mixed with a tiny bit of indignation at being ignored... and then a bubble of glee formed in her heart and brought a wicked grin to her face. Deliberately, she walked over towards Anya, casting her a glance as she passed, and began looking at a display of caps and sunglasses on the rack next to her.

Anya looked at her again, frowning slightly, but still didn't say anything. Still oblivious. So for the next ten minutes, Buffy walked from display to display in the store, pretending not to pay any attention to the other woman but deliberately crossing in front of her and sneaking covert glances in her direction. She did her best to hide her grin, wondering how long she could keep this going until the ex-demon realised who she was.

Anya likewise started sneaking looks at her, confusion in her expression, clearly wondering where she'd seen Buffy before... But then she suddenly started preening herself, obviously deciding that the handsome young man hanging around was checking her out. Buffy panicked. She was sure Anya's chat-up technique would be a little more...direct than she could really cope with at the moment, and made a hasty dash towards the changing rooms before Anya could make up her mind to come over and talk to her.

Buffy was also confused by the fact that she'd found Anya really rather sexy herself, and part of her had _wanted _her to come over. No! Bad Buffy! That would have been way too weird and awkward, and unfair to Anya, and possibly unfair to Xander too (Buffy was still a bit hazy on that part). So clutching the jeans she'd picked out she dashed into the changing room...

...And was met by a barrage of shocked gasps and mutters and frowns of disapproval. Blushing and stammering an apology, she backed out and headed into the men's changing room instead.

Once safely in a cubicle she examined her armful of jeans. Not really knowing her new size she'd just grabbed a whole bunch of pairs that looked in the right ballpark. Now she studied the labels... and the colour drained from her face. 28? 30? 32? She couldn't wear a size 32! This was horrible, a nightmare! No human should ever have to wear clothing whose size started with the number 3! She trembled so hard she dropped the jeans and sat down on the bench with a thump, tears blinding her. It was too much. She wanted to crawl into a hole and pull the world in over her. It was too much.

She didn't know how long she sat there sobbing, but at last she forced herself to straighten out. She was Buffy, goddamn it. She'd fought things that would make normal people flee in terror. She'd faced death and come out the other side. She was not going to let a stupid size label on a stupid pair of jeans defeat her! She picked up the pair that seemed the best fit, gripped the material firmly in one hand then ripped the label clean off with the other. Then stomped it underfoot for good measure. There.

Her face looked a bit of a mess in the mirror, but she wiped her eyes with her hanky and thought that not having any make-up on to get smudged was one bright spot in this mess. Then gathering up the scattered clothes and fixing a smile on her face she walked out of the cubicle - and only someone who knew her extremely well would ever have suspected there'd been anything the matter with her.

"Hello there! Would you like to come and have a coffee with me after you've completed your purchases?"

_Oh God. Ambushed_. "Hi, An."

"Do I know you? Have we... _Buffy?!_ Why are you a man?"

"Long story. It doesn't have anything to do with you, does it?"

"Pfft. You know I don't have my vengeance powers any more. And turning you into a man doesn't seem like much of a punishment anyway. You're very nicely shaped and extremely sexy."

Buffy thought she ought to protest at that, but in fact right now she welcomed the affirmation. She smiled at Anya and thanked her.

"It's only the truth. So are you gonna stay like that now?"

"What?! No way! Never way! A complete absence of way!"

"Why not? You're much better-looking like this. And as a man surely you're now much stronger and better at fighting?"

"Uh... I don't know. I don't feel any stronger." Buffy gave it careful thought; the idea hadn't even crossed her mind before. Surreptitiously, she looked both ways up and down the aisle, made sure nobody was looking. Then grasped one of the heavy metal and wood display racks weighed down with clothing - and lifted it up one-handed. It came up easily, but surely no more easily than it would have done yesterday. She turned to Anya and shrugged.

Then squeaked in horror as the rack tilted in her hand and all the clothing slid slowly and gracefully out onto the floor. Sweaters and hats and sunglasses went everywhere. Frantically she dashed around picking things up and shoving them back on the shelves, heedless of the correct order or folding. Anya just stood there watching her until Buffy coughed meaningfully, when she knelt down, picked up a pair of sunglasses in each hand and put them carefully back on top of the rack.

"You should be more careful with the merchandise. If this were my shop I would make you pay for anything you damaged."

"You're all heart. Look, I should really get back. Willow's researching how to change me back."

"Already? Don't you want to test out your new body first?"

Buffy eyed her warily. "Test it how?"

"Have sex with someone as a man, of course. It's certainly the first thing I'd do. If there was a suitable partner available, of course..."

Buffy looked at her in sheer horror for a second then bolted for the exit. Anya watched her go, shaking her head in despair. "Waste of an golden opportunity if you ask me. Oh well..."


	6. In which Buffy has lunch

Not wanting to risk going back into the shop, Buffy changed out of her old sweatpants in the mall's restroom - making sure to go into the right one this time. The row of urinals along one wall had completely freaked her out: did men really stand there right out in the open where any complete stranger could see them? She almost wondered for a moment if she would be expected to strip off in the middle of the floor to change into her new trousers as well, but quickly common sense prevailed and she locked herself safely into one of the cubicles.

By the time she arrived home again it was lunchtime. She pushed open the front door and was about to call out when she heard Dawn's voice being raised from the kitchen.

"What do you mean she went out?" She was sick!"

Willow's reply was a soothing murmur that Buffy failed to catch. Silently, she crept forward.

"If she's just going to make excuses to avoid going out with me, then she can keep her stupid..."

"Dawnie, no! It's not like that at all. There _is _something wrong with your sister. It's just not... the normal kind of wrong."

"_That's _not news. Are you saying there's something _else _wrong with her as well, then?"

"She's uh, she's not really herself at the moment. She..."

Buffy decided it was time to announce her presence, calling out from the corridor. "I'm under a spell, Dawn. Don't worry, it's only temporary."

"Huh. I thought it was something, y'know, dangerous or freaky. So what have you turned into? Can I look?"

And with that Dawn dashed through the door, saw Buffy standing there, and came to a dead stop. She blinked; tilted her head to one side... and then snorted in disgust.

"God, is that all? I thought you might have become some scaley demon or a giant insect or something. So you're a man. Big deal. What's for lunch?"

Now it was Buffy's turn to roll her eyes. "Nice to see you care so much. I've bought some beef and some potatoes; I fancy a fry-up."

"For _lunch?_ Buffy, what's gotten into you?"

From the table, Willow interjected drily, "Clearly she's turning more male by the hour."

"We've got to kill her now, before it's too late."

"Uh, Dawnie, card-carrying lesbian feminist here and even _I_ think killing her for being a man is a little extreme."

"Suppose so. Can we lock her in the basement instead?"

"Spike's down there, remember."

"So? They're both men now, aren't they? Hey, maybe they could do that Greek wrestling stuff together. Y'know, with oil?"

"Dawn! Shut up, you unnatural child!" Buffy tried hard to suppress the image her sister just conjured in her mind. She couldn't quite manage it. "There'll be no wrestling and definitely no oil of any kind! You're worse than Anya. I'd just like to eat my lunch in peace and then hopefully we can change me back to normal." The last part of her sentence was directed at Willow, and she raised her eyebrows hopefully.

"It's looking good, actually, Buff. I think I've narrowed it down to just a couple of possibilities, and I... ooh! Wait a minute."

Willow scowled in concentration as she turned and stared at her computer screen, then started clicking the mouse rapidly, muttering under her breath occasionally. Buffy watched her in silent expectation. Willow bit her lip, looked thoughtful then typed in a few words. Two more mouse clicks and she sat back with a radiant smile on her face.

"Of course!" She looked at the screen again... and suddenly her face seemed to crumple. All the light drained out of her eyes... and then without another word she got up and bolted out of the room. Buffy heard her footsteps pounding up the stairs... then nothing.

What on Earth?

Buffy stared after her, then turned to look at Dawn. Dawn stared back at her, equally dumbfounded - then both sisters got up at once and rushed over to look at Willow's computer. The screen was filled with windows, at least four tabs open on her browser and three separate document files open with what looked like cut-and-pasted text and images. Buffy felt nervous even looking at it, but Dawn slid into the chair in front of her and began confidently clicking on the various windows. Then she began reading out loud:

_"O -_ uh, insert goddess name here - _I call on you;   
I humbly ask your will be done.   
Hear my request, a simple change;   
Create a daughter from a son."_

"That's it? That's the spell? But it's the wrong way round; I was an, um, 'daughter' before."

"Maybe she was planning to use a new spell to turn you back, instead of finding the old spell and reversing it?"

"I guess. So why should she panic like that? Wait here, I'll go find her, make sure she's okay. Maybe you could even fix lunch, if you hate _my _choice so much."

And with that, Buffy walked out and then cautiously climbed the stairs.

"Will? Will, where are you? What's wrong?

The landing was deserted, and she pushed the bathroom door open to find it empty. The door to Willow's room was closed, and she knocked on it gently.

"Willow, it's me. What's the matter? Can I come in?"

No reply.


	7. In which Buffy discovers some things

Buffy knocked again, and was about to give up when she heard a faint, barely audible "Yeah?" from inside the room.

Inside, Willow was sat on her bed, hunched into a ball and facing the wall. She didn't turn around when Buffy came in.

"Willow, what's wrong? You're scaring me!"

"M'sorry."

"Is there trouble? Are we in danger?"

"Mm-hm."

"What? Where? Willow, come on!"

"Me. It's me, Buffy. Oh Goddess, I should never have come back, Giles was wrong. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

"What are you saying? You mean _you _did this to me after all?" Buffy felt her anger building. "Why didn't you say so before? Did you lie to me?"

"No! I didn't... I didn't know. Please Buffy, I didn't know. But I did it to you all the same."

"Willow." Buffy walked over and sat on the bed, putting her hand out and squeezing her friend's shoulder. "Willow, come on. Talk to me. What's happened? Was it, uh, one of those subconscious magic spells, like before when none of us could see you?"

Willow finally looked up at that, met Buffy's eyes, a watery half-smile flickering briefly over her lips.

"Why would _my _subconscious turn you into a man?"

"I really don't want to know. But if it wasn't that, what else?"

"Do you remember a couple of weeks ago, that friend of Dawnie's? The guy with the jacket, what was his name...?"

"RJ? But we burned his jacket, so - oh! You were going to turn him into a girl, weren't you?"

Willow nodded mutely.

"But - I don't understand. You didn't even cast the spell in the end; Xander stopped you in time. And that was two weeks ago and nothing to do with me!"

"Apparently that doesn't matter. I invoked Hecate. And I even _told _Xan at the time that she hates being interrupted like that! She obviously decided to take it out on _you _instead, and it's all my fault."

"Um, isn't it RJ's fault? And Hecate's. And even Xander's, actually, for stopping the spell, although on balance it's probably of the good that he did."

"But I still used the magic, didn't I? It was the very first thing I reached for. And I managed to hurt the people I care about. Again."

"It wasn't your fault. You were under a spell yourself. All three of you were: you, Dawn, even Anya. You're not responsible for this..."

"Yes I am, Buff. I have to be, always and everywhere. The magic's in me, and if I don't learn to control it, keep it safe... it's better if I were dead."

"No!" Buffy's denial was firm, but then she cast around worriedly for what to say next. Then it came to her. "How will you learn to use magic safely if you don't practice?"

"It's practicing magic in the first place that caused all that, y'know, what I did... I killed people, Buffy. I never realised I had that, that darkness in me..."

"You wanna compare internal darknesses, just try mine. So you screwed up. You made some bad mistakes. Are you going to try to do better in future, or are you just gonna spend the rest of your life sitting in the dark and brooding?" A smile crossed her lips. "'Cause believe me, I've met your competition, and he's got 240 years more experience than you."

Buffy was pleased to see that her last remark drew a reluctant chuckle from Willow. She jumped off the bed, clapped her hands together encouragingly.

"So come on then! You know what the spell was now. Surely that means you know how to lift it, too?"

"I suppose. Uh, I mean, _yes I do_. " Willow uncurled and sat up straight again, and Buffy was relieved to see the light returning to her features. "Actually, it may even be as easy as..."

She sat up straight, closed her eyes and extended both arms, palms outwards.

"...Let the spell be ended!"

She opened her eyes again eagerly; then pursed her mouth in disappointment. "Huh. Let me try again."

This time she kept her eyes open, and Buffy was rather alarmed to see them flash solid black for just a moment as she said, far more forcefully, "Let the spell be ended!" But she hid her concern, and looked down at her body again.

Still male.

Willow looked stricken, and Buffy was more than half afraid she'd retreat back into her shell again at the disappointment. But then she frowned, and Buffy could practically hear the cogs whirring in her brain. Without another word Willow got up and hurried downstairs again, and when Buffy followed her at a more leisurely pace she was sat back at the kitchen worktop typing into her computer as if nothing had happened. Dawn, surprisingly wise for her years, made no comment on her absence but simply laid out the plates and served up lunch. (It was pasta shells and salad).

Afterwards, Willow asked Buffy to stick around the house as she might need to try out some more counterspells on her. So she sat restlessly on the settee next to Dawn for a while trying to watch a movie - and enduring Dawn's curious staring. When her sister started trying to poke her in the chest in fascination, Buffy gave up and made her way down to the basement instead.

She'd planned to take out some of her nervous energy on the punchbag down there - and she actually _didn't _mean Spike by that, but the real one. But after he'd watched her beating the poor helpless leather and sawdust for a while, he offered to spar with her instead. He'd never fought a male Slayer before, he said, and now he was curious to try it. As for Buffy, she remembered her conversation with Anya and was interested to see if her change actually had affected her abilities at all. So for the next hour they traded punches, kicks and bodyslams that would have killed any normal human ten times over.

After they were finished, Buffy dragged her aching, bruised body onto the bed and plonked down with a sigh of relief. Spike, she was glad to see, was in an even worse state than her. As she lay back and waited for everything to stop hurting, she ran through the fight again in her head.

First things first: she didn't seem to be any stronger than before after all. Well, no, actually that wasn't quite true. When she focussed her mind, let it flow with the rhythms of the combat around her, then her strength seemed to be exactly the same as always. But that one time, Spike had hit her from behind when she'd relaxed for a moment and let her guard down, and she'd still managed to catch his hand and hurl him around. And in all honesty, she was pretty sure that if he'd tried that move _before _today, it would have caught her, at least for a moment. So: her physical male body was stronger, but the Slayer strength was mostly mystical and that was the same as ever. So.

She'd felt angry about what he'd done too, enough to shock her a little. They were only sparring, not fighting to the death - but when he scored that low blow, she'd wanted to mash his face to pulp. For revenge, to prove he could never get the better of her. She'd thrown caution to the winds as she lay into him then, abandoning all finesse in the urge to beat him down. In the cold light of hindsight she knew that only Spike's own surprise at her reaction had stopped him taking advantage of her recklessness. Eventually she'd got control of herself again, but it was a concern. In a real fight, that sort of behaviour could have got her killed. Something to watch, then.

Another downside was that her bulkier muscles and bigger body were just slower to move around. She'd actually failed to dodge Spike a few times - and had the bruises to show for it now. She'd misjudged her moves, not got out of the way fast enough or far enough. She supposed some of that would just be practice, getting accustomed to this bigger body, but part of her doubted male-Buffy would ever be quite as fast as the genuine article. Hopefully it wouldn't be an issue once Willow came through.

Reach, though, that was the one unqualified advantage of her current body that she would miss. Her arms and legs were longer than Spike's now; she could hold him at a distance, inflict damage on him while staying out of danger herself. Of course, that was less than useful when her fighting style relied so heavily on getting _inside _her opponent's reach, ducking under his blows then using her supernatural ability to deliver punishing blows without actually needing leverage or purchase on the ground. But Buffy was nothing if not adaptable in combat, and she'd soon learned the benefits of her longer limbs. Much to Spike's discomfort.

She glanced over at him. The bruises she'd inflicted were already fading, and she presumed her own were too. God, that was a fight! She stretched, suddenly hungry again, feeling buzzed. Spike looked at her speculatively, then down at the ground again, and she wondered what was on his mind.

Well, whatever. For some reason, the memory of another fight came to her then with vivid intensity. It was almost four years ago now: her and Faith, across the floor of her apartment, crashing through the window onto the roof; two bodies moving in uncanny unison, trading blows and counter-blows in synchrony, perfectly matched, each the other's equal and mirror... until the end. When Buffy's belief in what she was fighting for had finally overmatched her enemy's. God, she'd not even thought about Faith in years, so why now? The other Slayer's image was sharp before her; long chestnut hair whipping into her face, tight leather pants hugging her figure, t-shirt stretched tautly across her bosom... Buffy felt a heat rising inside her at the memory. She looked up...straight into Spike's blue eyes, meeting her gaze and returning it.

Then she suddenly got up without a word and sped frantically up the stairs again, hoping desperately that Willow had finally worked out the counter-spell. Oh, please turn her back into a woman again soon, before she really did something she'd regret forever...


	8. In which Buffy makes plans for the evening

As it turned out, Willow had indeed worked out the counterspell. Except that for some reason, she was really reluctant to tell anyone what it was. In fact, when Buffy came back upstairs, she found her in the middle of trying to get rid of Dawn.

"Come on, Dawnie. Don't you fancy going for a sleepover at one of your friends' tonight?

"Not really. I'd rather stay in with you and Buffy."

"I, uh, don't think... er, your sister might not want you here for this."

"Like she ever does... anyway, shouldn't we be calling **him **my _brother _now?"

Willow looked thoughtful for a moment, then heard Buffy's strangled gasp of outrage from the doorway, looked up, met her eyes and smoothly changed what she was about to say.

"I, uh, think Buffy still identifies as a woman, so it's more respectful to acknowledge that and call her "she". And we're getting away from the subject, which is you not being here when I, uh, when I... use potentially dangerous magics. Yup. You don't want to be caught in the backlash and turned into a boy yourself, do you?"

"Yuk."

"Well, uh..." Willow thought desperately. "How about going to Xander's then? Uh, or maybe he could take you to the Bronze?"

"Willow!" hissed Buffy, but her friend just gave her a frantic headshake then turned back to Dawn.

"It's a live music night! I'm sure there's someone good playing; it's incredible how many famous indie groups pass through Sunnydale. Go on, you'll love it! Please?"

"Buffy? Are you okay with this?"

She really wasn't, but somehow arguing with Willow didn't seem wise just now. So she surrendered gracefully. "Xan was working today, but I think he'll be home by now. I'll give him a call. Let's hope he's not already got a date for the night."

"Xander? What are the odds?"

"Depends... any giant bug ladies in town lately?"

"Hush, you two. Dawn, make sure you're home by..." She saw Willow cringe and shake her head, "Uh, make sure you're back in Xander's apartment by midnight."

Fortunately Xander was indeed free for the night, and if he had a problem with caretaking a sixteen-year old he was careful not to show it. When he heard what was up he did insist on driving around in person to collect Dawn, making no secret of the fact that his real purpose was to goggle in astonishment at male Buffy.

Before he arrived Dawn got changed into some party clothes - under sisterly supervision to make sure they were nicely chaste and unrevealing - and put together an overnight bag. Buffy intercepted and recaptured her favourite skirt, firmly overruling Dawn's argument that she "Didn't need it any more 'cause of the whole maleness thing." There was a brief outbreak of open warfare when Dawn discovered "disgusting man stubble" all over her razor, and Buffy had to promise to buy her some more. (Razors, not stubble.)

But then Xander arrived, and after the third variation on the theme of him "always wanting more guy friends in his life", Buffy practically chased him and Dawn out of the house. Ordering them to "Have fun!" as an afterthought.

And then she turned back to Willow, who now seemed to be trying to fade into the wallpaper and not be noticed. Buffy folded her arms across her chest and waited for an explanation.

"Uh, it's really extremely embarrassing. Um, are you sure you'd rather not stay this way after all?"

"Positive. C'mon Will, spill it."

"Uh, when you hear this you'll definitely want to stay a man. And by the way, did I mention already that I'm really, really sorry?"

"You soon will be. Come on. Who do I have to fuck to get off this boat?"

Willow blinked in astonishment. "How did you know?"

"How do I know what? That? It was a movie quote, I... oh no. Oh no. Will. Please tell me you're kidding."

Willow shook her head meekly.

"How? What? Why? And most urgently of all, _who_?"

Willow didn't answer that directly, just blushed and flashed a smile that vanished as soon as it appeared.

Buffy sat down, rather hard, on the bottom step. Then looked back up at her resident witch.

"You'd better explain this one slowly and carefully."

"Uh, have I already said sorry? Because I am."

"Willow. Explain. Now. Please."

"Uh, well, you know how I cast the spell on RJ because I was in love with him, well actually we all were so it wasn't just me, and I wanted him, just like you did, so I cast the spell on him to change his sex so I could go to bed with him, and so that was the objective of the spell, and when Hecate twisted it onto you it still had the same condition, so I can't break the spell until I've had sex, with you rather than with RJ, because that's how it works." She took a breath, looking slightly blue. "Have I said sorry yet?"

"Oh God. Are you really sure about this? There must be some other way, surely?"

"I haven't found one, and I've spent the last two hours searching. But I can keep going if you like? I mean, I might find some other counterspell eventually..."

"How likely is it? Honestly?"

"Honestly? Not so much. Buffy, I don't like this any more than you do, please believe me."

"Oh God. This is a nightmare!"

"Hey, I'm not _that _bad in bed."

Buffy snorted with laughter, almost against her will. "I didn't mean that. I just - I don't know what to do!"

"You, uh, don't know how to have sex? I heard different."

"Yes, but I'm a man now!"

"Did notice that, yeah."

"And you're gay!"

"Also true."

"But... you can't sleep with me as a man, it wouldn't be fair, we'll have to..."

"Buffy! Please don't make my decisions for me. You can turn me down, but you can't tell me not to even _offer_. I've chosen to do this and you don't have to if you don't wanna but I do."

"You do? You actually want, uh, want _me _with the manness and the thing, and, and the sex?"

"Mm-hmm."

"How does that even work? What happened to Willow the gay woman?"

"She's still here. But I have had a boyfriend before, remember? I won't burst into flames if I see a naked man. And - and I think I owe this to you anyway 'cause it's all my fault, but it's not just that. I do really want to do this."

"Why?"

Willow blushed. "Um, curiosity? I - uh - I've been wondering most of the day what it would be like. Ever since this morning when I saw your, uh, saw you." She quirked an arch smile. "Besides, this may be the only chance I ever get with you; tomorrow you'll be back to straight womanitude and you won't fancy me anymore."

"What makes you think I fancy you _now_, eh?"

"Oh, I've seen the signs." Willow smiled, then took a deep breath and sat down next to Buffy. She took her hand into her own, held it a moment. Buffy could feel the warmth of her body against hers. "C'mon. Buff. We really _do _have to do this, so we may as well enjoy ourselves. You're my best friend, and I love you, even if it's not really in a sex way, but it doesn't mean I've never thought about it and if you- mmmmphll!"

Buffy had decided that decisive action was best.

When they broke from the kiss Willow blinked a little, then snuggled up on Buffy's shoulder. "I take it that's a yes, then?"  Buffy considered her answer, but her thoughts were being badly distracted by the strange wonderful bewitching sensation of Willow's breast pressing up against her arm. And that was weird because normally she'd have hardly noticed it but now it was the entire focus of her attention; that and the thud of her heart and the heat spreading through both their bodies, each to each, and so before she could lose her nerve she tilted her head in the direction of upstairs, and when Willow nodded they stood up together and climbed the stairs arm in arm.


	9. In which Buffy goes to bed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first explicit sex scene I ever wrote in fic was a Buffy/Willow femslash PWP. I find it amusing that the first *het* sex scene I ever wrote was also Buffy/Willow.

Willow pushed open the door of her bedroom and giggled as she took Buffy's hand and drew her over the threshold. Buffy grinned back at her.

"I do believe you're trying to seduce me, Miss Rosenberg."

"Yep - uh, I mean, _'Why, no, sir. A kind gentleman like you would never take advantage of a maiden such as I_."

"Am I supposed to twirl my moustache now or something? 'Cause maybe I shouldn't have shaved this morning."

"I think they take a bit longer than that to grow. Uh, can we skip the rest of the talking and move to the kissing part now?"

Buffy didn't need much prompting. Her brain might be still rather bewildered by all that was happening, but her body knew exactly what it wanted, and she chose to let it take the lead. Their kiss lengthened and deepened, and then hands were roving over bodies and knotting in hair and pulling at clothing, and then they were falling onto the bed together, lips still united, bodies intertwining. Buffy felt again the strange, half-familiar and half-alien sensations of this new body's arousal, and suddenly her new jeans felt far too tight around the crotch. She fumbled with the zip, hands made clumsy with impatience until Willow reached over and helped her free, and then her pants were on the floor and her erection sprang free, even bigger than she remembered it from this morning. It actually looked a bit intimidating even to her, and she felt Willow hesitate at the sight.

"Are you still okay with this? We could turn the lights out, if that would help?

But Willow shook her head. "You sound like a man, Buffy, and in the dark I can't see you. With the light on I can look into your eyes, know it's still you with me." Then she seemed to look inward a moment to centre herself, and met Buffy's eyes again with a grin. "So let's have a look at you."

With that she wiggled around, and Buffy felt the pressure of a small hand grasping her, fingers caressing, and it was so nice... She wanted to return the favour; her hands roamed up Willow's legs, squeezed her bum, fiddled with the fastenings of her skirt. The only woman she'd ever undressed before was herself, but it was easy enough to figure out, and soon they were both naked together, enjoying the feeling of flushed skin pressing against skin, warm breath and endlessly searching fingers. They kissed again and again, then Buffy's mouth trailed down her friend's neck, into the valley between her breasts and around again before she grabbed a pink nipple between her teeth and flicked her tongue over its tip, causing Willow to gasp and clamp her fingers in Buffy's hair. Then back for another kiss, and then before she could lose herself in it Buffy pulled back a little and fought to control her breathing and her pounding heart.

"So,  mmh, wait. What, uh, what do we actually have to do? For the spell?"

Willow pulled her back, kissed her again, then replied, so close Buffy could feel her lips and tongue vibrate against her own.

"Have sex. Think you've gotta come, 'causa me. Inside me, prob'ly. You wanna?" She giggled.

Buffy certainly did want to. But before she could reply, something horrible hit her like a bucket of icewater down her spine. She pulled back.

"Oh God. Will, we've forgotten something."

"What?" Willow pouted, trying to pull Buffy back against her. So Buffy had to spell it out.

"Contraception? I'm a guy now, remember? And I'm pretty sure you're not on the Pill."

"The what now?" Then Willow got it. "Oh fricking hell. You're the hetero here, you're supposed to be the one to remember these things."

"Right, so when was the last time I needed that stuff? I can go check to see if Riley left any condoms in my drawer, they'd only be about two years past their sell-by date..."

"Maybe we should get dressed again, go out and buy some."

"Can't you just, I don't know, cast a spell or something?"

"It was magic got us _into _this in the first place!" But then Willow thought about it. "Actually, you know, spells to prevent pregnancy - or help it along - are pretty much the basics of witchcraft. Like, spellcasting 101. In fact, I think..." She bounced off the bed and ran over to her wardrobe, pulled a carved wooden box off the top. Inside were several chambers filled with different herbs, small vials and other less identifiable substances.

Buffy watched as she sat back down naked on the bed, taking a pinch of a couple of the herbs and rolling them between her fingers. Then Willow turned to Buffy with a mischievous grin, asking her to hold out her hand. Buffy did so, cautiously, and Willow spread the plant-dust onto her fingers then uncorked a small bottle and poured a few drops of sweet-smelling oil over it. She chanted a few words in a language Buffy didn't recognise, and the oil grew warm as the crushed herbs melted into it. Then Willow smiled at her.

"That's it! It worked perfectly. Nothing went wrong. Nothing at all!"

"Yay you. So now what? Do you have to lick this off my fingers or something?"

Her friend giggled. "Not lick, no, but you're almost right. You've just got the wrong end of the sti-, uh, the wrong end of the Willow."

The next couple of minutes turned out to be an awful lot of fun for all concerned. So did the next twenty. Buffy was shocked by just how much she was enjoying this, although she did wonder briefly how she was going to feel about the memory once she turned girl again. Willow responded eagerly to her touch, clearly loving the sensations of Buffy's searching fingers and lips and tongue. If Buffy sensed a certain lack of passion in Willow's own matching explorations of Buffy's body, she certainly couldn't fault her earnest desire to make sure her friend enjoyed herself just as much as she did.

Then Willow wriggled around onto her back and looked over at Buffy coyly. "C'mon then. Let's change y'back."

"Okay." But Buffy suddenly felt really nervous, as if she'd never done this before. Well, she hadn't, not this way around. Willow picked up on her hesitation, and for a moment her own eyes mirrored it. She looked so vulnerable that Buffy's protective instincts were roused.

"We can stop if you'd rather."

"Nu-uh. No stopping us now. Uh, there's some lube in my cabinet over there? Think it might help."

Buffy leaned over to pull open the drawer, propped herself up on her arm to see in. There was a few odds and ends in the way, but then she spotted her objective and blinked in surprise. She'd been aware, in the general "things we know about each other without ever actually discussing them" kind of way, that her friend had sometimes used a vibrator... but she'd never have guessed that now she owned three of them. Including one that was a peculiar wand-like shape with a bulbous end that had Buffy craning her neck trying to work out the angles and dimensions of it, until she grew hot and firmly told herself to concentrate. She grabbed the bottle of lubrication - trying not to dwell on the fact that it was only half-full - and turned back to Willow.

Who was grinning evilly, clearly aware of what Buffy had been looking at. "We can get one for you too once you're a girl again, if you like. Hate to see you deprived." As she spoke she took the bottle from Buffy, held her friend's hand out and poured a little of the lube onto it, then pointed towards her crotch. Buffy hastened to obey the implied instruction.

"But... aren't they noisy?"

Willow 's reply was slightly breathless as Buffy's fingers did their work. "Only th'big one. Can't use it when y're all here. Rest are r'lly quiet."

"_Will!_" Buffy was a little bit shocked - and also massively turned on by the thought of Willow and her "really quiet" vibrators just down the corridor from her own bedroom. She wondered if she'd feel the same way if she weren't a heterosexual man right now. Probably not. But who cares?

Not her. Especially not now that Willow had applied some of the lube to her own fingers and was stroking them up and down Buffy's hard and eager prick. In fact, there was pretty much only one thing on her mind right now. Eyes dilated, breath coming rapidly, she looked over towards Willow, who nodded and settled back again.

Buffy rolled over to kneel between her legs, anticipation taking the place of fear. Except she wasn't quite sure how... awkwardly, she propped herself up over Willow's supine body, aimed her hips and thrust them forward.

The tip of her erect penis hit Willow's body somewhere in the region of her lower abdomen and rebounded. Ow.

Try again. For a moment she thought she had it... but no. False alarm. Missed again.

Willow focussed back in on Buffy's face and raised an eyebrow. "We gonna screw, or are you just gonna poke me with it all night?"

"I'm trying! This is harder than I thought!"

Willow giggled, then reached her hand down and took hold of Buffy, guided her in the right direction. With a combination of Willow's help and her own renewed efforts, finally everything was properly lined up, and then Buffy took a deep breath and pushed herself slowly forward into Willow's body.

There was warmth and yielding softness, and Buffy felt rather than heard Willow give a long-drawn-out gasp as her friend entered her. Then their chests were pressed together, flat and muscular against soft and curvy, and Buffy could feel Willow's heart pounding in tune with her own, feel her friend's panting breath warm on her own face. She began to thrust, slowly at first, then remembered her manners and was really proud of herself as she propped herself up on her elbows to take her weight off Willow's torso. Her friend's eyes were unfocussed, staring upwards, but when Willow met Buffy's gaze she quirked a smile up at her, traced her hand up Buffy's chest to her neck. Buffy could feel her own breath coming shorter, catching in her throat, waves of ecstasy building up inside her, the faint musk of Willow's scent filling her senses as she moved her hips faster and faster, in and out, until the waves peaked and crashed and every muscle in her body locked and she groaned in pleasure and pain combined as her sperm pumped out into her friend's body.

Then she collapsed forward, breathless, hips still moving lazily, the world spinning and tumbling around her...


	10. In which Buffy goes through some changes

As if from a great distance, she felt Willow shift under the sudden weight that lay atop her. Buffy felt she ought to move away, get off, but right now she lacked the strength. But then Willow's arms were around her, pulling her closer still, and she fluttered open her eyes to see her friend grinning at her. Grinning mischievously. And before Buffy knew what was going on, Willow whispered something in her ear.

Buffy's sex-befuddled brain had only just begun to process the words when she felt herself twisting and WARPING and _shrinking _and CHANGING and stretching and compressing and turning inside out and turning outside in, and it was indescribable like birth and death and pain and pleasure all combined and all at once, and just when she could take no more... it ended.

And she realised what it was that Willow just said. Five simple words. "Let the spell be ended."

In growing anticipation and hope she looked down towards her chest, and saw what she'd longed to see all day. Her breasts. Her wonderful boobs, just as perky as she remembered them. (And also pressed tightly against Willow's own, but that wasn't important right now.) And her crotch! It had nothing _projecting _from it any more. It felt exactly how it ought to feel. (Well, it wasn't usually jammed up against Willow's like this. But that wasn't important either.) Buffy squealed in delight and relief and enfolded Willow in a massive hug, babbling her thanks all the time. Her friend returned the hug enthusiastically, her body pressed tightly against Buffy's own.

It wasn't until after she came up for air again that it dawned on Buffy that she was, in fact, lying on top of the naked body of her best friend. While also being naked. With the full mutual nakedosity. It didn't feel _wrong_, exactly, after what they'd just done, but it did feel a little awkward. Uncertain quite what to do, Buffy settled on lifting herself up on one elbow and quirking a sardonic eyebrow in Willow's direction.

"So how come you didn't wait to change me back until after I got off you?"

Willow grinned cheekily, completely unrepentant.

"I was sure you'd want to change back as soon as you possibly could. I wasn't wrong, was I?"

Buffy gave an snort of amusement. "I can't really criticise, can I, after what you did for me? Even if you are taking blatant advantage now."

"No I'm not!" Willow's wide-eyed look of innocence was rather spoiled by the way she was stroking her hands up and down Buffy's back. And... ohmygod! She just _wriggled_! This was getting out of hand. Part of Buffy wanted to leap off and get away... but part of her didn't. Part of her wanted to wriggle right back.

"Mm-hmm. I'm getting off you soon, you know. Just as soon as my arms stop feeling like jelly."

"Sure. I wouldn't want to stop you." And with that _ohmygodagain _she just ran her fingers down Buffy's spine and it felt so _good_, and Buffy told herself firmly that it was just a few lingering traces of maleness from the spell, and it would wear off soon. Any minute now.

Then Willow cocked her head to one side and quirked a smile. "So what was it like being a man? Has it made you a better person 'cause you've seen how the other half live their lives? Are you all insightful and wisdomy now?"

Buffy considered that seriously for a moment... then shrugged her shoulders. Willow pouted.

"You're no use. You'll never be the star of your own TV show if you can't come up with some trite moral lesson from that week's adventure in the final scene."

"They'd never broadcast this scene anyway. We are kind of naked at the moment, or had you forgotten?"

Willow grinned. She clearly hadn't forgotten. "I dunno. HBO might show it..." Then she looked more serious, and brought up her hand to touch Buffy's face. Her fingers gently traced along her cheek, which was now smooth and feminine and totally non-stubbly. "It's nice to have you back, Buff. And I'm sorry for putting you though all this. Are you okay, really?"

"I'm fine. Happy to be me again. But what about you? Are you okay? It wasn't too awful for you, was it, with boy Buffy?"

"I'm completely non-traumatised. I could do without the, uh, ooziness factor, but at least it got you back to your normal shape. Which, no offence to men, I have to say I prefer."

"The whatiness factor? _Oh_! Um, sorry about that."

Willow shrugged. "You were a guy. Comes with the territory. Uh, so to speak."

"I guess... oh! Speaking of, did you.. I mean I couldn't tell, but did you, uh..."

"Did I come?" Willow gave Buffy a Look. "You _don't know_? You really _were _changed into a man, weren't you?"

Buffy felt stricken and guilty. "I was distracted! It was confusing and strange and I wasn't sure what I was really doing, and I..."

"Relax! It doesn't matter. We were doing a spell, to change you back. That's all."

"It _does _matter! It's not fair if you didn't when I did. We'll just have to keep going until you, er, do."

"No we don't. Nobody's keeping score here, Buffy."

But Buffy's conscience was doing exactly that. At least, she firmly told herself that the only reason she wanted to see and feel and hear and _taste _Willow have an orgasm of her own was because it would be fair exchange. And okay, maybe it was the aftereffects of the spell, too. Stupid spell.

She looked Willow in the eye. "So you're happy to have sex with boy Buffy but not with girl Buffy. Really?"

Willow looked confused, stammered out a few attempts at a reply, then finally managed, "You do remember you're straight, right?"

Now it was Buffy's own turn to give her friend a Look. "Didn't I say almost the same thing to you earlier? Remember what you said back?"

Willow blinked... then slowly began to grin. "You really sure about this, Buffy? You won't regret it later?"

"Absolutely not. I, uh, might not want to _talk _about it ever again, ever. This has been a really strange day. I'm thinking total denial, and forgetting it ever happened sounds really good. But this part? What we're gonna do? I'll never regret that."

And then they shared a kiss. And all that followed.  
.  
.  
.  
.

"Uh, Will? I've never done this before. Talk me through it?"


End file.
